The Bet
by iTorchic
Summary: Flame Bets. They're well known across the country and starts in well known Colonel roy Mustang's office. Come see some of the chaos as the bets unfold! The new bet: Riza Hawkeye can't last a week in a miniskirt. Semi-crack. Rated T. Chaos shall ensue! D
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! I needed a break form my usual fan fics and I had a few ideas that I'm going to make into a few small fan fics. I just needed to take a break from my stories like 'Falling into Myself' and my other ones. With 'Falling into Myself', I just need a few days so I can make sure I end the story in a way that you'll all like. Plus, a lot of the action is not my forte, so I'll need a little extra time. So, I'm going to put up about four short stories that will probably only be about 3-5 chapters each. I may continue them on if you like them.**

**This first one will most likely be a one shot, because I wanted to try writing in different characters than I'm used to. This would probably a bit of a crack, so I hope you enjoy it!**

The Bet

The office was peaceful with the scratching of pens on various documents and the breaths of the men in the office. A minute passed until a blonde head peered up and scanned around the room.

'The hawk's eyes are gone......' he thought and smirked. "Hey is that Black Hayate?" There was a loud scream and one of the men was now cowering on top of his desk.

"What the hell Havoc?!" The man yelled and the blonde smirked while a cigarette rested between his lips. "You try and scare me as many times as you can get!"

"Well, we aren't being watched. We need something entertaining once in awhile when Hawkeye isn't around and you freaking out about a non-existent dog would be the closest thing I can come up with right now." Havoc replied and leaned back in his chair.

"What has surprised me is that none of you have made any bets in the past weeks." Colonel Mustang mused from his office. The door was open so he could see right into the large room. Havoc and Breda looked at each other and smirked. Meanwhile, Senior Warrant Officer Falman reached into his desk and grabbed an old worn out notebook from his desk.

"I believe that it is now Lieutenant Breda's turn to set the bet." Falman said while flipping through pages of old bets with the name of the winner of the bet at the end of each page. A bet usually took up side of one of the sheets of notebook paper, however in the past year the entire military had been starting to get in on some of the larger bets such as 'How long can the Flame Alchemist continuously work on paperwork'. Surprisingly, Lieutenant Hawkeye had entered, and won, the bet with the entry as 'As soon as he gets it completely done and done completely'.

"Name your bet." Havoc sneered, his unlit cigarette dangling limply through his smirking lips. Breda pondered for a moment until he focused in on Havoc and smirked.

"I bet you can't go a week without a cigarette; even if it's unlit." The betted item dropped out of Havoc's mouth and even Mustang had looked up from his doodling.

"How long would Havoc last?" Fuery asked, looking at the other officers.

"I bet he won't even last two days tops." Breda declared and Havoc sent him a glare.

"I bet I can!" He shouted angrily and Breda grinned in reply.

"So what do you wager?" Falman had already scribbled the bet down and looked up at the pair with his pen already on the paper.

"If I win, you have to prank Hawkeye everyday for a whole month." Havoc said and smirked. Breda's face went pale along with the other men in the room. They all imagined Breda's funeral with Hawkeye and Havoc smirking over the grave.

"Fine." Breda finally replied and everyone looked at him in shock. "But if I win, then you

have to give Major Armstrong a sponge bath." The men's faces turned ghostly white and they shuddered. **No one** would be able to endure that and not be scarred for life.

"Fine." Havoc replied shakily. Both men shook hands, confirming the bet and Falman looked up from the bet chart and looked around.

"Put me on for 600 on Havoc." Mustang called from the other room and Havoc smirked.

"Thanks boss!" He called and received a huff in reply.

"Fuery, would you like to bet as well?" Falman asked, writing down the Colonel's wager/

"Well....I uhh.........." Fuery stammered and Breda smirked.

"Come on Fuery, you know that Havoc can't last a week without his smokes!" He laughed and Havoc glared. Meanwhile, a private delivered some more paperwork to the Colonel's desk and overheard the conversation.

The Mustang crew was an infamous bunch in Central Headquarters and rumors leaked about the group everyday. The 'Flame Bets', as they were called, were also infamous as well and were usually the cause of the mass mayhem that took place in Central HQ about three or more times a week.

The private listened in closely to the name of the current bet and smirked quietly to himself. 'This is going to be a good one.....' He thought and rushed out of the room after snatching the Colonel's completed paperwork and ran out of the room to tell the rest of his own team. Mustang looked up when he heard the private run out and shrugged, thinking that his team probably sent another new recruit to the mental ward or scared them shitless.

-The next day-

Mustang walked into his office the next morning to see Havoc facedown at his desk, not moving.

"Is he breathing?" He asked and Fuery jumped up and lifted Havoc's head. What was revealed was Havoc with his eyes half open and releasing groaning noises.

"Yes sir, he's breathing."

"Good. Please make sure it stays that way." Mustang replied before going over to his desk to start 'signing paperwork'. A few minutes later, Breda walked in and smirked at Havoc's crumpled form.

"I should have know he wouldn't have lasted even a half of a day." He gloated and plopped down in his desk across from Havoc. The blonde weakly lifted his head,

"I..... can take....this!" The stammered and his head dropped down onto his desk with a loud thud.

"Fuery." Mustang called and the young officer jumped up and checked Havoc again.

"He's still alive sir!"

-At lunch the same day-

"Well, it seems that the betting pool for this is extremely large." Falman announced before taking a bite of his turkey sandwich. The other men of the Mustang crew, excluding Havoc, looked up from their lunches.

"How big is it?" Breda asked but a lieutenant from another squad came up to their lunch table behind Falman and whispered into Falman's ear and handed a hundred sens.

"Well, we have 200 people betting against Lieutenant Havoc while 300 are betting for him." Falman said, skimming through the sheets of paper in the bet journal. Mustang gagged and took a breath of air before setting his sandwich down.

"How can the entire HQ know about this already?" He exclaimed and Breda smirked.

"We're infamous sir." He replied before gnawing on his beef jerky.

"I believe that we've even had bets from Eastern HQ as well." Falman said and Mustang groaned. This was going to be a tough one to explain to the Furer.

-Two days later-

"Well, the lower ranked officer's betting pool has about 400 officers in it while officers that are above the rank of Major have about 300 officers." Falman said. He had gotten a separate notebook for this bet, seeing as it was the biggest betting pool in Amestris history. Who knew that Havoc was so well known around Amestris?

Mustang groaned and signed another sheet of paper. Hawkeye was coming back from her mandatory vacation in 4 days and he needed to get at least some work done.

"I believe that even General Hakuro has even put in a bet."

"Falman, do you think that we could get court marshaled for this?" Mustang sighed and Falman shook his head.

"I do not believe so Colonel, even Furer Bradley has put in at least some money."

"What?!"

"This is a popular bet sir. I think the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother and put in some money when they had to stop by Eastern Headquarters the other day. Fuery has been on telephone lines taking bets from different regions of the country for the past two days!"

Why was it always _**his**_ group that caused this sort of thing to happen?

-3 days later-

Havoc was sitting at his desk, staring at the tray of steak that was at his desk and he drooled. Who knew that giving up smoking would give him so many rewards! He grabbed the nearest fork on his desk and started eating it happily. Meanwhile, the other officers in the room stared at his in disbelief.

"He went insane." Breda stammered.

"Well, nicotine does affect the brain a lot." Falman replied, "Since the Lieutenant has always smoked, his brain is probably taking the after blow of giving up its fuel.

"But he's eating his paperwork using a pen!"

"Well........."

-The next day-

Hawkeye strolled into the office the next morning to see Fuery on multiple telephones at once while furiously scribbling in various notebooks; Falman with a calculator at his desk and writing various things down; Breda working on some paperwork; an overly happy Havoc roaming the room; and the Colonel in his private office signing papers.

"Has there been a murder spree or something?" She asked and all of the men, except Havoc, paled when they looked up.

"Oh! Hawkeye! You're back already!" The Colonel chuckled and Hawkeye sent a glare at him and he froze.

"What are you all doing exactly?"

"Ummmmmmmmmm, holding a national wide bet." Breda said nervously.

Let's just say that the contractors were called again later that evening due to various bullet holes in Colonel Mustang's large office.

-The next day-

Havoc grinned while he smoked his cigarette at his desk the next morning. He had a camera in his lap and Breda was nervously shuffling in his desk.

"You're the one who thought I couldn't make it a week." Havoc chuckled, "Now you have to pay the consequences."

Breda ended up in therapy with a phobia of guns a month later. No one knows if he ever recovered.

**There you go people! I hope you liked it! It was just a small thing I thought would be fun to write!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Why hello everybody! I originally planned on making this thing a one shot but thanks to you people wanting to continue and me telling my friends and them giving me genius ideas for bets, I shall continue on with the crack till we will be too high to even think anymore! =D **

**Also, if you guys have any ideas for bets, I would love to hear them! =)**

The Bet

"The Shortest bet in Military History"

It was over a half year after the historical nation-wide bet involving one 2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc and everyone was antsy for the next bet to occur. Sure, there were un-interesting ones like 'How many dates can Havoc get in a week' which was unanimously agreed upon that it would be zero and everyone under Colonel Mustang's command won, except for Havoc of course.

The office was surprisingly silent the morning that would start another nation-wide revolution, with the only noise being pens being scratched across paper and the occasional turn of a piece of paper, that is, until _**he**_ showed up.

**BOOM**

The office door burst open, barely being able to stay on the hinges and no one even flinched. They all knew who it was and exactly what would happen. Havoc lifted his eyes slowly and glanced across his desk at Breda who looked at him in return. They heard the stomping of the Fullmetal Alchemist across the floor and the hollow clanging footsteps of his younger brother behind him. Breda rolled his eyes and Havoc faked a silent groan before quietly lifting up one of his hands and began to puppet exactly what was going to happen with his hand. Breda smirked and decided to take the role of the young state alchemist while Havoc was the Flame Colonel.

"So, I guess you still haven't found the stone yet Fullmetal." Havoc's hand sighed and Breda's hand twitched in anger,

"Of course not you Bastard! Would we be here like this if we had?" Breda's hand replied. Havoc's hand leaned back in its imaginary chair and it rolled its head.

"Probably couldn't find it because it was on a high shelf or something...." Havoc's hand replied with a snort and Breda's hand jumped on top of his desk silently while it screamed,

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT HE COULDN'T EVEN SEE OVER A 2 FOOT SHELF?!"

Havoc's hand leaned down a bit before replying, "You."

"THAT'S IT YOU BASTARD!" Breda's hand yelled before being held back by the other hand, its younger brother. Bother military men sighed before putting their hands down and looking over at the usual scene of Edward Elric being restrained by Alphonse in front of the Colonel's desk.

"Edward," Roy sighed with a chuckle, "You couldn't even last two weeks without blowing up over your height."

"How much do you want to bet, old man?!" Edward replied angrily. Havoc and Breda's ears perked up and they looked up at each other before looking to Falman who already had the notebook and Fuery who was strolling over to the phone lines. It was pretty certain that this could get big, and fast compared to Edward's growing speed. Everyone knew how the oldest Elric had the shortest temper in history; maybe it was even smaller than his height! Havoc got up and put his arm around Edward's shoulder.

"How much are you willing to pay boss?" He asked with a smirk holding his unlit cigarette.

"Half of my research grant for this year!" Edward declared with an evil grin.

"Brother! But you know how your temper is!" Alphonse groaned, this would be over half of the money that they used to travel Amestris with, stay in hotels if possible, and 'donate some money' to people who knew about the stone (which Alphonse disapproved of but Edward said: "It'll be fine Al! Just let me do the talking and this will be our little secret!"). This may set them back awhile!

"And what shall the Colonel wager?" Breda asked, getting up from his chair while Falman scribbled in the newest entry and wagers.

"If the shrimp" pause for fume of anger, "miraculously wins, then I will agree to do anything Fullmetal says for a month." Edward grinned but Mustang quickly added that it had to be legal and not to any of the higher ups. Something also about leaving him alone on his dates as well. Edward agreed and shook Mustang's hand.

"I hope you can last two weeks shrimp." Havoc laughed and there were tiny twitches of anger before Edward let his determination to win cool him down and he smirked at Havoc.

"At least I won't go insane like you did for your bet, smokestack." He said before walking out of the office with Alphonse trailing behind him.

"Wow." Havoc said as everyone watched Edward leave.

"I was pretty sure that he would break right away with all of the years that he has blown up over his size." Breda said and looked over at Havoc who still looked out the door. It was true about Havoc becoming insane, and it was pretty freaky to watch; although, Hughes had gotten some good pictures of Havoc munching on a mound of paperwork with a pen skewer. The Colonel decided not to send Fullmetal on any missions out of Central during the two week period unless it was to one of the other military bases.

He also had Fuery pass on the message to other bases: "If the Fullmetal throws a temper tantrum when being told he is small, tiny, a shrimp, pipsqueak, a runt, an eight year old, or anything else that could be associated with his small stature please inform Colonel Mustang at Central Headquarters. If you catch him, you'll get a reward. However, do not over-prod him. As you can guess, this is a flame bet and all procedures in military handbooks about Flame bets apply. If you want to insert a bet, please call Colonel Mustang's office to set up your wager." Now, once again the phone lines were busy again with wagers and Hawkeye just sighed and left the room. There was no way to stop it now. It was like when she had to go for her mandatory vacation: they were let loose to cause money loss and gain throughout the country. However, this could be for the best. The economy has been slow lately and whenever there's a Flame bet, it sends it back up again. It's probably why the Furer allows them in the first place.

-3 days later-

"He still hasn't cracked?!" Havoc exclaimed and Breda nodded sadly. How long was this kid going to last?!

"It's pretty amazing that he's able to put up with this for so long." Mustang muttered and rested his head on his desk. With the new bet, they had thousands of pages of people who had entered the bet. Officers, generals, civilians, Fullmetal's teacher and her family and friends, the Rockbells, and the Furer had entered and now there was a pile of paper that was as tall as his waist from the floor up.

"If you didn't procrastinate with those stupid bets, you wouldn't had this much paperwork." Hawkeye said coolly from her desk, quietly signing papers.

"What?!" Mustang exclaimed.

"That pile of people and the amount of money that they're betting has to be sorted by military and civilians, ranks, cities, amount of money, and who they are betting for. Along with the paperwork for your _**actual**_ job, I'd say that you're going to be a very busy Colonel." She replied with a small smirk before returning back down to her paperwork. Mustang merely sighed and began picking up the piles of paper and yelling for Havoc, Breda, and Falman for a _little_ assignment.

-6 days later-

"Well hello Fullmetal." Mustang said as Edward walked into the office. There were five more days left and the twerp hadn't yelled about his height since before he shook Mustang's hand.

"Hello bastard!" Edward said happily while smirking. He was ready for the expected onslaught of 's' related words and other synonyms relating to his stature. He already had it in his grip, safely in his coat pocket.

"Sorry, but we're a little-"

****

"Mustang fell back out of his chair, with his ears still ringing.

"What the hell was that?!" He yelled angrily while getting up off the ground only to see Edward's smirking face.

"A censor." The blond replied curtly. Mustang glared at him,

"How?" Edward pulled out a metal canister.

"Air horn." He replied simply before he released an evil smirk. "You can't beat me Mustang. I'm going to win this bet." He picked up the file with his latest mission in it from Mustang's desk and walked out.

-5 days later-

"It will be exactly two weeks in a minute in a half." Havoc said as he looked at his watch. Mustang was sitting at his desk while a smirking Edward Elric sat in front of him.

"So, do you doubt me now bastard?" Edward asked smugly while Mustang mentally groaned. He would probably end up in a mental ward, hospital, or maybe even the circus after Edward had been done with his reward of bossing around him.

"I'll have to say that this is the longest time in Edward's life that he hasn't blown up." Alphonse said while standing behind the couch Edward was sitting upon.

"I just thought of something..." Breda whispered to Havoc as the smoker watched the clock.

"What?" He replied in the same volume.

"Edward tends to be......... vengeful...... doesn't he?"

"Yea?"

"And he hasn't been able to blow up for two weeks."

"Yes?" Havoc replied. One minute left.

"So, a lot of people in the country tried to get him to blow up." a pause.

"So.........." 35 seconds left.

"He's allowed to blow up in half a minute."

"............" 20 seconds.

"How many times did we call him the 's' word?" Breda asked.

"Over a hundred." Havoc replied. "But where are you going with this?" 15 seconds.

"Loose cannon Fullmetal Alchemist with built up anger at people like us." 10 seconds.

"..........oh shit."

"_**YOU FUCKING BASTARDS WILL **__**NEVER**__** CALL ME TINY, SHRIMP, MINISCULE, AMEOBA, A SPECK OF DUST, TINIER THAN AN ANT, A 5 YEAR OLD, OR ANY OF THAT OTHER CRAP IF YOU EVER WISH TO COME OUT OF THE HOSPITAL AFTER THIS TIME YOU GOT THAT PEOPLE?! I WILL RIP ALL OF YOUR HEADS OFF FOR EVEN TRYING TO MAKE ME GIVE UP THIS BET BECAUSE I MADE A LIST OF EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU WHO TRIED TO INSULT MY HEIGHT. I BASICALLY HAVE FREE RANGE NOW ALONG WITH THE FACT THAT I HAVE MUSTANG'S GLOVES! THAT'S RIGHT PEOPLE, I'M COMING AFTER YOU!"**_

That was the last transmission over the military phone system.

The hospitals had an overflowing amount of patients for the next few weeks, including a certain colonel who was now used as a human punching bag. The newspapers only classified it as 'The Elric Disease'. The 's' word wasn't used for months after the last flame bet and Havoc and Breda haven't been seen since. Only thing anyone heard is that 'Xing is nice this time of year'.

**Hope you guys like it! =D**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back with another chapter of this! =D So, I hope I do good with this bet since a bunch of you wanted a Riza bet, I shall make a Riza bet! MWHAHAHAHAHAH. Also, yesterday was weird for driving through Milwaukee. Someone was wearing a kilt around for no reason. Let the random people rule the world!**

**Warning: Nosebleeds will occur during this chapter due to Hawkeye-ness**

The Bet

"Mustang's Dream come True"

After Edward had weeded Breda and Havoc out of Xing and thoroughly kicked their asses before he went to go find more leads on the stone. The 'Elric' Disease had decreased after a year as the state alchemist went through his list, checking it twice, and surprisingly the Furer only laughed when told of the revenge list.

The office of Colonel Roy Mustang had kept quiet about their bets, unanimously agreeing that bets about the Fullmetal Alchemist were lethal. However today was a great day for the men of Central for their promised day had arrived. Mustang's vision was about to come drool and many nosebleeds would soon commence.

"Here is your paperwork sir."

"Is my bill in there?"

"No, I took it out sir."

"Why?!" His groan was nothing short of a whine and Mustang's men perked up.

"What's up with the Colonel?" Breda asked and Falman looked over his stack of paperwork.

"I believe the Colonel attempted to bass a bill on the female dress code."

This immediately had Havoc grinning ear to ear.

"Didn't he want to make all women wear miniskirts?"

"Why yes, yes he did."

.

"Why did you take it out Riza?!"

"It is demeaning to women sir and frankly I do not believe that men would be able to concentrate at all."

"We can concentrate! I think that you just don't want to wear a miniskirt."

"It's a mixture of both sir."

"Well, I bet you can't last a week having to come to work in a miniskirt without shooting any men. If I win, you have to let me sent the bill to the Furer."

The men's ears perked at the words 'bet' AND 'miniskirt' and Falman quietly pulled out the new and improved betting notebook.

"Sir, as much as I disapprove of these bets………..I accept."

The jaws dropped in unison in the room, did Hawkeye just agree to _that_?!

"However, if I win then you will stop your pitiful attempts at trying to pass that bill and you have to wear a miniskirt for a day."

"Done."

And the betting soon commenced.

-The next Monday-

The men in Mustang's office arrived early, some such as Havoc had brought cameras as well, in anticipation of Hawkeye's new wardrobe. Rumors had leaked out through the headquarters of Central and men stood by the doorways to the building while the women of Central felt immense support for Hawkeye and promised each other to beat the shit out of the men who dared to cross the sniper.

It was 8 am when headquarters was bathed in blood from the hundreds of men who fell prey to the nosebleeds. The clacking of heels alerted the men of Colonel Mustang's office to the female co-worker and Havoc readied his camera. As the door opened numerous things happened: Fuery fainted, Falman blushed and looked down steadily, Breda began drooling, Havoc snapped as many pictures as he possibly could, and Mustang immediately loved this bet even if there was a possibility he could lose.

The fact was, Riza Hawkeye looked stunning and the falling and nose bleeding men just was proof of that. She, however, felt stupid for even agreeing to this however if she could survive a week of this would make a statement about the sexist ideas of the pigheaded men in the military and women would not have to wear the damn miniskirts men were so addicted to.

The men got their work done, well as long as she was sitting down. However, she had to move her desk so they could concentrate if one of them sat next to her. Overall, she actually did not feel the need to shoot the hell out of her co-workers until she was nearly pushed over the edge by Havoc taking so many pictures. Damn perverts.

-Wednesday-

Riza had stuck to her female companions this week during lunch and whenever she was not in the office. She was fine if the men in her own office asked like perverted and immature idiots, however the fact that all of the men now tried to see her it was pushing it. She stuck to her side of the bet, not using her gun to kill the damn hormonal men but thanks to her female companions she never had to worry about it. 3 men ended up in the hospital and 14 ended up in therapy from 'scary ass women'.

-Thursday-

"You know she's probably going to win this one boss."

"I know Havoc."

"Then why'd you do it?"

"Hawkeye in a miniskirt for a week. Either if she won or not, we still have at least one female officer in a miniskirt."

"Well played sir, well played."

-Friday-

It wasn't surprising that the amount of bets from each side were spilt down the middle. All of the men sided with Mustang, and all of the female population sided with Hawkeye with the exception of Fuery who sided with the sniper.

It was safe to say that the women and Fuery all had a lot of extra money with the exception of Havoc. He was smart in making copies of the pictures and selling them before every copy mysteriously disappeared.

The photos that did remain of any miniskirts was from the next Monday when Colonel Mustang showed up to work wearing a miniskirt. His face stayed a constant shade of cherry and he kept muttering about it being worth it. However, that mood was shattered when the Fullmetal showed up at HQ that day.

**Well, did you guys like it? Also, I've been listening to a band called the 'Flogging Molly' while writing this. LISTEN TO THEIR MUSIC! It's an awesome Irish band and I love their music! **


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